Shoving off from the home port, I sail to see what the working girls are doing where I get my morning cup of coffee. After drinking the first cup and upon the return trip home, the scared eyes of a young deer become fixed with my eyes. This young creature has been struck by a vehicle and is laying on the side of the road. Pulling back hard on the ponies the schooner comes to a sudden stop and the fancy flashing lights are employed. In the darkness I think the deer is a doe, but would later discover it's a buck. My mere presence is enough to cause the deer to stand and struggle to the nearby lawn, which is exactly what I wanted.
After examining the deer as best I could it was easy to see that both back legs are damaged with breaks - one being compound. Back in the schooner, leather is slapped hard on the ponies backside as I hurry to the bunkhouse to call authorities. The call is made and at this point I'm confident help will soon arrive.
Two hours later help has still not arrived except the kindness of two ladies that live next door to the scene of this sad event. They are sitting with the deer to keep it from struggling and offering caressing hands. People have went and got themselves in such a damn big hurry they can't even stop to see what they've done when they hit an animal. Sad damn commentary on some members of humankind. These two ladies made me remind myself there is still a lot of goodness in the world.
Once again I leave to make another call and this time I reach the game warden. As we are talking on the phone I hear a gunshot - the gunshot that ended the suffering. Thanking the game warden for his time the conversation ends and the rest of the day begins.
After the events of early morning I bandy about the house doing this and doing that. Forcing myself to the tying room a few flies are churned out, but most of the enthusiasm I usually have for tying was absent.
I deem it best that I simply shut down and let the mind rest.
Around mid-afternoon I decide to hit the creek to at least see what the fish are up to. At the creek is my daughter and her husband Van and with them they have a young angler named Adam. Adam is wreaking havoc and laying waste on the perch. After watching Adam pluck perch left and right I decide to go upstream to see the other fish. About that time a dozen or so youngsters show up and go upstream ahead of me. They're eager to fish so the water is their water today as I go back to the prairie home.
This morning when I awoke there was once again the sound of rain. This morning the working girls snuck me in the coffee store early. Their kindness allowed me to get to the mercantile store an half hour early and therefore out of the store an half hour early.
Two weeks ago I told myself that carp season for me was pretty well over due to water conditions and searing temperatures coming around a second time. However, in the last week we've received four different rain events and it's been enough to increase flow and refresh the creek.
The carp gear is brought back out and I head for the creek. It's raining when I get to the edge of the creek and I should note for this journal that there are advantages to fly fishing for carp in the rain. The rain seems to bring the carp to the shallows to feed and this morning was no exception. The rain also seems to camouflage the angler by breaking up the clear, smooth surface of the creek.
In less than two minutes on the creek the first carp of the morning comes to hand. In the next two hours five more carp would come to hand with three other great opportunities being blown due to me trying to see the hook too early. The same fly, a Creek Critter, was used and it was the only pattern tried. Of all the Creek Critter's I have, this is the one I consider the chi Critter. Unfortunately, the fly is nearing retirement due to wear and tear.
|Chi Creek Critter|
It rained the entire time I was on the creek this morning. I left the creek wet from head to toe, but happier than a puppy with two tails.